Long Balcony Poems
Long Balcony Poems. Below are the most popular long Balcony by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Balcony poems by poem length and keyword.
Sometimes my soul
resembles distant horizons,
like burning stars
abandoned between
dusk and dawn.
When the
sky hangs
as heavy as
my hazy heart,
I search for a sign
from heaven
to soothe
the somber sequences
of nature blanketing
mountains of misery,
as the spectrum of
colors is full of deception.
Maybe the universe
illustrates splitting
sunsets within
my murky thoughts,
As I'm oblivious to
the rhythm of
riveting songs of spring.
I sing
tunes of autumn,
orchestrated in
black and white,
grey refrains remain
locked as an encrypted
mystery of winter land,
within
esoteric hieroglyphics
blowing as
tornadoes of hurt.
I am envious of the
sound of comforting rain,
and clouds
carrying chaos-
weeping reveries of angst.
But what if these
translucent tears
and the anxiety I
try to hide,
fall like
mists of
haunting memories,
to follow the moon-glade,
ruffling along
sterling ripples,
unravelling
jasmine compassion
across rivers of
scattered gems,
would I then feel
the light of love,
synchronize
a eucalyptus lullaby
that sketches
amethyst amulets
through
midnight fears,
to embrace these
fragile dandelion wishes,
behind metaphorical
fields of periwinkle flowers.
My dreams are fading,
whilst darkness whirls
in unending circles.
I am barely breathing,
as the silhouette of
a pale sapphire
shatters into a
sea of sadness.
For you have
cast a shadow
upon the sun
within my mind,
and all that's left
in this eclipsed realm
is the petrichor scent
of healing,
amidst
the dying petals
in my balcony,
that mimic flames of
life and betrayals.
Maybe, it is from
the aftermath of storms,
we flourish rainbow
roses soaked
in redolent incense-
roaming through
an opaque canvas of clarity.
Flapping gay garment hung on balcony bannister
Trots obstinate flung spun over railing
Fixated brazen Brigette immune to embarrassment
Boosted bemuse formats never failing
Composed to procure prominence, step with stars
Stage bound show must go on motto
Constellation shift slides velvet curtain aside ajar
Planets orbit origin wins Lyceum lotto
Horoscope high hope performs fame premonition
Bright light box office tickets Brigette
Halcyon sky spiral beehive secures each audition
Sixties seductress frequency fills seats
23rd June
Absurd Truth
28th january 2012
Stillness of the night,
And the dullness in my sight,
A cold dark cloudy winter night,
The pathway lights shine on bright.
Perched comfortably in the balcony of a guesthouse,
The vista so great that the dormant poet in me arouse.
The cool breeze envelops my surround,
A few dew drops from the moistened leaves drips aground.
The languid wing of air the fragrance of it carries,
Of blossomed flowers, trees, plants and berries.
Once again the freshness in my mind,
Seems to be awakening from the blind.
Welcome, come in the joys of happiness,
Its now time to say to darkness
Wherefore gazest thee from yon balcony,
O fairest Juliet? Searchest thou for one
that loveth thee 'neath heaven's brazen sun,
that son of Montague—'tis felony!?
Thou lovest him? Ah! but loveth he thee?
'Ere long thy love for him wilt be undone
by poison and—alas!—thou wilt be gone
and we shalt grieve—both Houses!—yea, all we
and Montague! I beg of thee—instead
be mine? For I'm thy kinsman, Capulet!
Be mine! And like that Romeo fore-said,
I'll worship thee as divine; and forget
that thy wayward heart near left me for dead
whilst thou eloped with him, mine Juliet.
*Written for an AP contest in which the theme was to write
an alternate ending for a favorite book, poem etc.
Shakespeare's quill gave Romeo and Juliet a tragic ending
but that's a sad love story I think needs a bit of mending.
Yes, he's the Bard, but quite frankly it broke my heart
to learn they both died needlessly. I hated that part.
In my rewritten dialogue between them, I'd find a way
to change their ill-fated future and have Juliet say,
"Romeo, it's only for you that my heart will ere yearn.
I will simply fake my death and when our families learn
that we've left Verona, we will be married... man and wife
and be together as we have planned, happy with life."
The messenger she sent to give Romeo the good news,
I'd replace with a more diligent one that I would choose.
I'd have made the couple more intelligent and shrewd,
perhaps put an end to the Montague and Capulet feud.
The tale of star-crossed lovers would end on a happy note,
without Juliet seeming to have died. No need for an antidote.
When Juliet says, "Romeo. Romeo. Wherefore art thou?"
He would come to her on the balcony, and he would vow...
"Juliet, I swear, never did my heart love until now.
For I never saw true beauty til this night,
and if perchance our families had forbidden us to wed,
from Verona we would've left. From Italy we would've fled."
*With apologies to Shakespeare, my edit I would offer,
not a penny nor one Euro would I take for my coffer.
Indulge me for just a moment for I'm a romantic at heart,
and dared alter the ending by not keeping the couple apart.
Far from the City
Far from the city,
a veiled mountain.
Beneath the mountain,
a river murmuring along.
Upon its waters
floats
a secret boat.
Beneath an ancient oak
at the mountain's summit,
the me
of countless births
still sits in meditation.
Its trance
has yet to break.
A Sliver of Sky
A young woman sits
on a chair on the balcony.
Another
is brushing her hair.
Two kindred souls,
absorbed in their stories.
A sliver of sky
watches them.
The Wall's Story
A son in his father's arms,
the mother takes a photograph.
A son in his mother's arms,
the father takes a photograph.
Mother beside father,
the son takes a photograph.
Behind every photograph,
standing upright,
is
a white wall.
The Wall's Story
Towards the Day of Freedom
At noon,
a tree plays the piano
in the marshland.
When night falls,
a manuscript
of stars and braided hair.
I walk,
holding the hand
of a hailstorm,
towards
the Independence Day
of wild turmeric.
A Little Day
Inside my breast pocket,
a little day.
In its possession,
a vast sky.
There,
I take flight
as a bird.
Childhood
When
the colour blue
waits
for the yellow bus,
it acquires
another name:
childhood.
The Boats That Never Learned to Sink
I choose,
upon the turbulent waters,
those radiant boats
that have never learned
what it means
to sink.
The Hands of Death
My being
has been planted
with flowers upon flowers.
Now,
in the hands
of a mosaic-made death,
nothing
remains.
Destined Silence
Once I chanced to meet my Mr. Perfect.
Then, I stayed on study leave in Aunt’s place.
But I never talked to him direct,
Even if we stood ever face to face.
Yet our silent world was magnificent.
From far balcony I watched him to pass by.
Mere exchange of glances was sufficient.
Too strong a beautiful bond was bound to tie.
In the last eve of my leave completion
We happened to be in a solitary park.
I was waiting with full expectation
He hurried to approach close to me in the dark.
I looked straight to his eyes even without blink;
I felt he has overpowered his hesitance.
Eternal time took pause, we lost worldly link.
He did not speak: Our love sank in destined silence.
11/02/15
9th Place
Dancing with description Contest
Sponsor Casarh Nance
First Place
'YOU AND YOURS LETS GET PERSONAL' Contest by Brian Strand
This morning
So cold , I feel I don't
want a wash O gush! from
my oxblood painted balcony
I stood and heard three red cocks
trumpeting like she come with a luggage
of ice? Yeeh! I could fill my skin fuming cold
as my palm's degrees lower i guess to 20°c like
rickety, bicycle I creak screeching I will wait, put the
sunlit my brownie icy skin to bath it golden in noon flakes, when
ice is gone to roast
In the kitchen, felt the smiles of
my pot, but it caresses my palms frozen
It slept so frozen wake, my metals seem burning in
It cold lit. waded downstairs, blaze my retinas the almond
tree, seated to the eastern earth blooming ray flashes of greens,
as the rains
let down from the
heavens. prodigally it
bathed the earth. between
the greens swam a brownie nightingale
flapping its fluffy wings as the wet tasted of
her dry skin she complained and fought so hard to
flap away it icy fangs, cos in between sat her lonely Nest,
Sheltering her nestlings to frozen by the morning icy fist. I prayed
she feeds On other mornings for survival, from this icy baked day, as
I watched the sky runs swiftly in the pace of a brownie spotted Deer scurry
leaving this frozen morning, the dank street, her nestlings and me Behind.
Act I
Evening. A boy offer to a girl in a balcony a white rose.
Flower among wild flowers, white flower, white rose,
Come now to the balcony and stretch your hand fair.
I shall boon you with a flower worth to be your pair:
Flower among wild flowers, white flower, white rose,
If my name do not cause you shame or a light blush,
Then give it to the four winds and offer me a trade:
Your name so I can follow the open road ahead
In the woods of ancient trees and newborn lush.
I climb to you under the crimson lover’s moon
And leave after in your lips I see a new bloom.
Even for the sun, it is hard to go in a maiden’s room,
The window’s glass does not mean to halt his strike,
Both heat and love can be gentle and scorching alike:
Even for the sun, it is hard to go in a maiden’s room.
Without a key, even the wind will remain outside,
A key with gold and silver blending also so rare
That truth and beauty merge with the same share.
Is it true? I will keep my purity and forfeit my pride.
Oh, give me a full moon night to dream and return
With another boon to make my face and heart burn.
Act II
The girl goes to the backyard of her house where we see a rose tree.
Oh, my heart wakes with such sweet melody.
I wonder if angels are dancing while hearing.
How is it possible? My heart is under custody
of three small words, my eyes are now tearing:
what do I see in the three of my youth days?
A rose is gone? And the same rose that I hold?
Now a sharpening grasp on my heart I can feel,
Why the truth was hidden, why didn’t he told
He came to steal? Better if he also tried to steal
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days?
Act III
Before the balcony. It is morning. The boy is alone. With another rose.
The girl came with a hand on her bosom,
Carrying white roses on an osier basket.
“here” ,she said and then a white cascade
Appeared and covered the young lad,
“do not stand still, why just one blossom?
Better to love as many as you can get,
Make all flowers, all white roses be mine,
And my heart will be your love’s shrine.
The boy danced under the white rain:
“Tomorrow”, he said, “I will steal again”.
When I'm blue and need something to make me smile
I can turn on my forty fives and listen for a while
Jimmy Gilmer sang about a Sugar Shack
Holding hands, walking down that railroad track
Then I let the music take me back.
Take me back to a time when love was new
Take me back to a time when skies were blue
When we could catch that falling star
Make love in the back seat of my car
Music, oh sweet music, take me back
Doo-wop memories touched my soul
Mixed with the early days of rock and roll
I close my eyes and through the haze
I see sunshine and better days
Music take me back to those times again.
There was Bandstand on TV in black and white
Radio on 'til you fell asleep at night
There were dances at the school
And swimming in the community pool
Music take me back, let me remember when.
Did we believe those days would forever last
Were things so much better in the past
I dream of days when a movie
Meant kissing in the balcony
Music take me back, let my heart roam.
It seems like a thousand years ago
We found true love and watched it grow
I know this is where my heart belongs
When I listen to those songs
Music take me back, please take me home.